


loose lips sink ships all the damn time - not this time

by ladystark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladystark/pseuds/ladystark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa’s fallen in love before, and she’s all too familiar with the feeling. She’s familiar with the rush you get, the way your heart skips a beat and the way you can’t keep your eyes off the person. And, sure, Sansa experienced all that stuff with Margaery, but she simply ignored it. She was too caught up in everything else to dwell on it.</p>
<p>But now that they’ve gotten away from the city and away from the crowds, it dawns on her. Margaery is beautiful and sweet and smart and funny and Sansa loves her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	loose lips sink ships all the damn time - not this time

The first time they meet, it’s at a fashion show during one of the worst years of Sansa’s life. Margaery is one of the models – a beautiful, skinny girl that walks down the catwalk with her head held high and her brown hair flying behind her.

She winks at Sansa when she passes by her, almost causing her to stumble mid song. She’s heard of Margaery before, of course. For years, people have been encouraging them to meet, have been telling her stories about how beautiful and kind and smart and funny the other girl is. They met at rehearsals and backstage briefly before, but it was enough time to assure the redhead that this girl _was_ beautiful and kind and smart and funny. And she feels even more sure when they’re walking side by side, in what almost feels like a snow globe.

For the rest of the show, Sansa is on a high. She’s felt better than she has all year, and the whispers ( _crazybitchwhoreterribleugly_ ) and the heartbreak ( _myrcellamyrcellamyrcella_ ) seem a million miles away. She keeps thinking of Margaery, who glided down the catwalk so easily and so gracefully, who smiled at Sansa as if they had known each other their whole lives. It’s not until it’s over that she crashes back down to reality, but she still feels somewhat lighter, somewhat happier.

When the show is over and they’re hanging out backstage, Margaery runs up to Sansa and throws her arms around her. It’s the kind of hug you give to a lifelong best friend or a lover, not someone you barely know, but it feels right. Sansa hugs her back, breathing in Margaery’s flowery perfume.

“You were amazing!” The other girl announces, clutching Sansa’s hands when they pull apart “I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were _that_ good. Your CDs and the rehearsals don’t do you justice.”

“Oh,” she says, smiling slightly “Thank you. You were wonderful too. Beautiful to watch.”

She ducks her head in embarrassment, but Margaery only laughs, clutching her hands tighter. It slowly dawns on Sansa that the model was being sincere – that she genuinely thought that Sansa gave a wonderful performance, and it makes her smile even wider.

After almost a year of hate and judgement from people that don’t know her, it’s refreshing to hear this beautiful and talented girl compliment her. Sure, Sansa still receives plenty of praise, but it’s often drowned out by the more negative comments. The ones calling her untalented, and ugly, and boy crazy, and childish, and a whore, and a hypocrite, and a crazy ex-girlfriend. The comments that are a world away from what was being said about her just three years prior: the ones calling her young, and beautiful, and talented, and creative, and brave, and sweet.

As she watches Margaery pull away (with a quick “I’ll be back”) and flit around the room talking to people and accepting their compliments, she can’t help if Margaery knows that they only build you up to knock you down. That the same people calling you “lovely” and “talented” will turn on you within a few years and start calling you “crazy” and “terrible.” That the bigger the star, the harder they fall. That no matter how hard you try, people will always find a way to twist your words and spread lies and make you out to be something you’re not. That they will ruin relationships and friendships without a second thought.

She considers mentioning these things to the other girl, to let her in on the unspoken truth. But when Margaery reappears, clutching Sansa’s hand and announcing how they “must spend time together,” she feels as if the other girl is fine. That she’s the one in a million – the girl that everyone loves and always will.

So instead, Sansa smiles and gives Margaery her number, and on the way home, she can only think about two things:

  1.        They _do_ build you up just to knock you down. But they haven’t yet.
  2.        Margaery Tyrell is one of the most enchanting people Sansa Stark has ever met.



* * *

It’s only a matter of time before they’re spending most of their time together.

Their schedules are hectic, particularly since Sansa is three-quarters of the way through her world tour right now, and is overseas for most of the time. But even though they can rarely be together in the flesh, the make time to Skype and text and even write a few letters.

It’s a fast friendship, and Sansa loves every minute of it. Those times when she does get to see Margaery, she finds herself laughing with the other girl and dancing around and baking cookies one night, and even crying into her shoulder on another.

Sansa finally understands why people have been saying they needed to meet for years. She don’t think she’s ever hit it off this well with anyone since Jeyne and Dany, who she’s been friends with since she was a teenager. Margaery is almost her other half, and compliments Sansa in every way possible.

Sansa attempts to teach her some chords on guitar whilst Margaery helps her perfect her model walk. Both end up being failures, as it turns out Margaery can’t play an instrument to save her life and Sansa still has a habit of tripping the higher the heels and the more graceful the pose.

“You’ll get it one day,” the brunette tells her, as they eat cookies and drink red wine, sitting cross legged on the carpet with Lady between them “I promise.”

“Maybe I’ll teach you piano instead,” Sansa muses, and Margaery throws her head back when she laughs, nudging her with her elbow.

“It’s a deal.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, before the radio playing in the background announces that they’re playing “the hit song that made Sansa Stark a household name.”

As the opening chords of a song she wrote when she was 17 and in love with some her parents didn’t approve of begin to play, Sansa blushes in embarrassment, and Margaery grins.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed!” she says, a hint of surprise in her voice “You play this at every show, sweet girl. You have for years.”

She shrugs, staring down at her hands. “I’m happy for what it did for me but – it’s always weird to hear my songs on the radio. Especially now.”

She doesn’t finish the sentence: _especially now, when the host makes a sharp comment afterwards about how I'm insane and no guy would want to get back together with me anyway._

Margaery gets to her feet without saying anything, skipping over to the radio to turn up the music, before turning to Sansa and holding out her hand.

“Marg-” Sansa begins, but the other girl simply shakes her hand and smiles even brighter.

“Come and dance,” she asks “I’ll be the prince and you’ll be the princess.”

Sansa rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, taking Margaery’s hand and allowing the other girl to twirl her around the room until they’re both lying on the couch and out of breath.

A sharp comment does come from the radio host once the song is over, something about how childish she is, but Sansa finds she doesn’t care. She’s too busy and laughing and looking into her friend’s eyes. The rest of the world feels miles away, and the redhead can’t quite believe that she’s only known this girl for about a month but she makes her happier than most people. She doesn’t understand it. Maybe she’s just like this with everyone, and what they have isn’t anything exciting. The thought scares Sansa for a minute, not wanting to think of this as an average and boring friendship.

But when Margaery leans in and whispers “Baby just say yes,” setting them both off again, she knows that’s not the case. This is something special and new for both of them.

* * *

Sansa spends the holidays at her parents’ house, with the rest of her siblings. It’s a well needed and well deserved break from the rest of the world. Here, there’s no paparazzi, there’s no screaming fans, there’s no list of things she has to do. Her family keeps her grounded and remind her of what’s important (6 of her Grammy Awards are locked in a cabinet with Rickon’s school trophies – Sansa keeps her seventh, her Album of the Year with her at home.)

She sits on the floor wearing the same plaid pyjamas as the rest of her siblings, and listen to them talk about their accomplishments. She always opts not to talk about her career when she’s at home, because everyone hears enough about it anyway. Besides, she much prefers this: listening to Robb talk about his work as a budding politician and Jon tell stories about his work down at the police. Watching as Arya recreate how she had to take down a violent man hell bent against her protests and Rickon run through the house to brag about how he won the 800m sprint at his school carnival. Reading Bran’s latest picture book.

Whilst she doesn’t mention her career, her family does bring up her personal life. She understands, of course. They’ve always talked about it, and considering her most recent album is about intense heartbreak and she hasn’t dated anyone since Myrcella in April, she knows they’re more curious than ever.

“I’m not dating anyone,” she says again, taking a sip from her hot chocolate as Catelyn braids her hair, as if she was a little girl, “I swear.”

“We believe you,” says Arya, with a grin, raising her own mug in Sansa’s direction “But you do have a new friend right. Margaery Tyrell? The model.”

Sansa blushes involuntarily. She knows she’s mentioned Margaery more than once or twice to her family, but she can’t help it. She hasn’t had such a new and exciting friendship in a while, and she wants to focus on the platonic relationships in her life right now. So, of course her newest one would be discussed all the time. It’s natural.

“She’s great,” she replies, finally. “I know that Jeyne has been my best friend since I was fifteen, and Dany since we dated brothers from the same family years ago, but I feel like Margaery knows me almost as well as they do.”

“I thought you only met her last month,” Jon says quietly, from his corner of the room. Sansa loves Jon, but he’s never really understood how quickly she can fall in love with someone, whether it’s as a friend or a lover.

“So?” shrugs Ned, slapping his nephew on the shoulder “I only knew Catelyn for two weeks before I knew she was the one.”

“That’s different,” Rickon argues, suddenly joining in “You guys wanted to get married. Sansa is only friends with this Marjorie girl.”

“Margaery,” Arya corrects, before smirking “And maybe our dearest sister _is_ in love with her.”

Sansa ignores the entire debacle, continuing on as if her siblings and cousin and father had never interrupted. “I want you all to meet her. You guys would _love_ her, I swear.”

“Well, of course Sansa,” her mother replies, tying off her braid “We love all of your friends.”

“I know,” she says, and she knows she sounds kind of breathless but she finds that she doesn’t care “But Margaery’s different. She’s special.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re not in love with her?” Arya asks with a grin, and Robb nods in agreement.

“Arya!” Sansa shrieks, hurling a pillow at her sister before giggling. It inevitably becomes a pillow fight, and even though she’s 24 and almost knocks down her family Christmas tree, Sansa has never felt happier.

And she knows, deep down, that Margaery would love to see all of this one day.

* * *

Margaery comes to visit her in Nashville on her month long break off tour. They sit in her home, eating cookies and watching Lady chase a rubber ball that Sansa throws for her, whilst a Madonna album plays in the background.

Watching Margaery, Sansa begins to think she’s untouchable. Not in a “too unrealistic and above them all” kind of way, but in a “nothing will ever get to her” one. She rolls her eyes at the negative comments she herself receives, throws in a few jabs at both of their exes, and calls anyone that hates Sansa for odd reasons a “coward.” Because even if the biting comments about her personally don’t bother her, she appears to have a strange desire to prevent Sansa from it all, as best she can.

She’s everything anyone would ever need in a best friend, and Sansa can’t help but love her in the way she loves Jeyne and Dany. She loves the way she throws her back when she laughs, the way she dances around gracefully, the fact she says the sweetest things and makes the best cookies.

But, more than anything, Sansa loves the way she feels about her. Happy, free and confused. She hasn’t felt that way in months, not since Myrcella. Myrcella, whom Sansa loved intensely and briefly, who left Sansa's life as quickly as she entered it. Myrcella, who Sansa wrote multiple songs for to get her through the darker moments.

“Can I play you something?” Sansa asks, suddnely, quietly, gently breaking Margaery off mid-sentence.

It’s always scary for her, the first time she plays someone a new song, because there’s a chance that they’ll love it and there’s a chance that they’ll hate it. And Sansa bares her soul in every single one of her songs, so the thought of Margaery hating what she’s about to play, something so pure and fast and honest, and running the risk of her hating it – well, it scares her. She clears her throat before adding, “Nobody has ever heard it before.”

“Oh, Sansa,” Margaery says, giving her a soft smile “I’d love to.”

So Sansa grabs her guitar, and begins to sing. It’s a song she wrote right after things with Myrcella fell apart; when she still felt scared and lost and confused and lonely. It’s a few months old, but she’d been too scared before to share it with anyone, worried of what they might think. It’s far from a subtle song, the same way her open letter to Joffrey had been blatantly obvious. It’s filled with references to Myrcella’s favourite book and features frequent mentions of a whirlwind romance. Still, she knows that many people would ignore the glaring truth for the more _ideal_ lies.

Not Margaery though.

When she finishes, Sansa waits several seconds before she looks up to meet Margaery’s eyes. Her friend is smiling, but her eyes are wet, and the redhead has always, _always_ taken that as a good sign.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

“I love it. You should put it on the album,” Margaery says with a nod, leaning over to give Sansa’s hand a small squeeze.

“I’m not sure if it’d fit,” she says, thinking of the songs she’s already written, and the idea that’s begun to form “But maybe as a deluxe song. For the fans.”

She smiles at Margaery, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.

_And for her._

* * *

A month later, Sansa finds herself in England, touring and hoping to record. One of her favourite artists is in town, and there’s a small chance they might get to work together.

The problem is, whilst she has plenty of songs written up in her diary, she doesn’t want to waste this opportunity. She wants to write something new, special, something that incorporates all she’s felt the past two years into one song. Something that the fans will treasure.

Between trying to find the perfect song and rehearsing and performing and Skyping with Margaery, Sansa doesn’t have the time to keep up with the news. She’s only just started checking out online sources again recently, anyway – the hate for her seems to have died down, but she doesn’t want to dive right into the world of tabloids.

So it’s not until one of her final days in the city, when she’s having some time to herself that she finds out. Via a text from Arya, no less.

_Myrcella is in London. U ok?_

Sansa frowns at the text briefly, before checking online, and sure enough – the reports are everywhere.

_Myrcella Baratheon arrives in London._

_New show? Young star Myrcella Baratheon is rumoured to be filming a play in London._

_Rising star Myrcella apparently in England._

Sansa sits there for several minutes, reading every article, and realizes that she feels nothing. There’s no longer a sense of longing, or regret, or hope – there’s just acceptance. She feels fine. She feels free. She feels alright.

Smiling to herself, she can already hear the words to the perfect song forming in her hand as she types out a reply to her sister.

_Good for her. Don’t worry about me. I think I’m finally clean._

When she writes down the words, and goes to visit her favourite artist to produce and record, and thinks of the hidden message she’ll include (with a clever pronoun twist to fit with the story and keep the public guessing), Sansa just knows. This is how she’ll finish the album. This is how she’ll let the world know she’s officially reinvented herself, and that she’s fine. That she’s still there for the fans.

And this is how she’ll finally end her story with Myrcella.

* * *

She cuts her hair shortly after. Margaery is there when it happens, when Sansa’s long, trademark auburn locks become short, trademark auburn locks. There is a moment, a jolt when she feels the scissors cut the hair that she realises it’s too late now, until she remembers: _she_ wants this. _She_ needed this. _She_ decided to do this.

She looks in the mirror afterwards, bringing her hand up to run her hand through her hair. It feels weird when they stop short, hair ending at her shoulders when it used to go down to her chest. But she doesn’t regret it, not at all.

And when she catches Margaery smiling at her, and feels the other girl’s lips on her cheek as she announces how _wonderful_ she looks, Sansa has never felt better with the decision.

* * *

It’s Margaery that suggests the road trip.

With her fourth album’s era over, Sansa technically has a few months to relax before she releases her fifth. And whilst those months will be filled with recording sessions, they both know she can fit a small road trip into her schedule.

“It’ll be fun,” Margaery assures her “I promise.”

“I believe you,” Sansa responds “Let’s do it.”

It’s not an ordinary road trip, by any means. They still have security in the cars behind them, and they still get recognized, and Sansa’s publicist is still texting her every now and then. But there are moments, when they’re driving along in silence, or laying on hotel beds gossiping late into the night, or running around on the beach hand and hand, when Sansa feels at peace. The only other time she feels the way she’s feeling on the trip is when she’s at home with her family, and makes her heart flutter that Margaery can bring this feeling out in her.

One day, Sansa finds a small yellow flower in the ground, and plucks it, leaning over to tuck it into Margaery’s hair. The other girl smiles, but raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“What?” Sansa says with a grin “I know you love flowers – I mean, your grandmother owns a florist empire – and it looks good with you. You look beautiful, Marg. Like sunshine.”

Margaery’s smile softens, and she leans over to kiss Sansa on the cheek. They’re standing in the middle of a forest, wearing tights and jumpers, and she can’t help but feel this is like a scene in a romantic movie. The scene where the protagonists kiss for the first time.

She can’t help but feel a little disappointed when Margaery pulls away and doesn’t kiss her on the lips. It’s at that moment that she starts to think that maybe Arya was right.

Sansa’s fallen in love before, and she’s all too familiar with the feeling. She’s familiar with the rush you get, the way your heart skips a beat and the way you can’t keep your eyes off the person. And, sure, Sansa experienced all that stuff with Margaery, but she simply ignored it. She was too caught up in everything else to dwell on it.

But now that they’ve gotten away from the city and away from the crowds, it dawns on her. Margaery is beautiful, and sweet, and smart, and funny, and Sansa loves her.

Surprisingly, the realisation doesn’t scare her. Sansa knows she isn’t straight, has known since she was seventeen and hopelessly in love with her first fiddle player. And she knows that no matter if she reciprocates her feelings or not, Margaery wouldn’t leave her. She’d stay, no matter what.

Even the thought of the public finding out didn’t scare her, not here, when she was away from it all, writing words into sand with sticks with Margaery. When she fell asleep next to the other girl each night. When they drove down empty highways together, singing along with catchy music.

“What are you writing?” Margaery asks her, later that night. They’re sitting on the couch together, watching _F.R.I.E.N.D.S_ whilst Sansa scrawls in her notebook “A new song?”

“Yeah,” Sansa replies with a soft smile “I’m not done, but I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“You’re going to put it on the album?” Margaery prompts, more alert than ever, and Sansa can’t help but laugh.

Sansa looks down at what she’s written so far, a song about two lovers running away from the rest of the world and hiding from the people that don’t approve – but it doesn’t matter, because they’re together. And they love each other. A song that resonates so much with what she’s feeling right now, sitting across from Margaery.

“I think so. It means a lot to me.”

* * *

It’s when she officially moves to New York that Sansa realizes that her life is changing, getting an upgrade. Her hair is short and she has a new best friend and a new album on the way, and she couldn’t be happier.

She loves Pennsylvania and she loves Nashville, for different reasons. They both used to represent home to her, and, in their own way, they always will. Pennsylvania means family and Christmas and the beginning of her love for music. Nashville means first loves and best friends and the start of her career.

New York means the start of her new life, of new beginnings, of the next chapter of her story. And, as she sits on her penthouse floor listening to the song that declares her love for the city and her fellow LGBT+ companions, she can’t help but feel that it’s going to be the best chapter.

Margaery sends her a text as the final notes play, and Sansa can’t help but smile when she sees who it’s from. She thinks of their relationship and the song Sansa wrote on the road trip, and what the future might have in store for them.

_Hope moving day went well!_ Reads the text, _When can I come over for a sleepover? We can do some baking my beautiful New York girlllll <3 <3_

* * *

Sansa can’t sleep the night before the album’s release. After all the arguments she had with her management, after how hard she fought to change genres, she knows she’s screwed if this doesn’t go according to plan. If they’re proven right and she’s proven wrong. It’ll show them that she can’t be trusted to make her own decisions and show the world that she’s the flop they all made her out to be.

It turns out she had nothing to worry about. The album is a hit, breaking records and selling out faster than she could have hoped for. And she knows that Jeyne and her family couldn’t have been the only ones buying copies.

The critics are raving, and Sansa can’t help but dryly think that they started praising her the moment she announced she was ignoring their comments and meant it. She knows, deep down, that it will only be a matter of time before the tables turn again, but she can’t help but care that much. She’s proud of what she’s done, and so are they, and nothing in the future can take that away from her.

Her fans are all over the internet. @-ing her and talking about how much they love it. Even the ones that got to hear it early are freaking out, saying how they’re so happy everyone else has heard the songs now, and _ohmygod how amazing is Track 2?_

It’s their reaction that she’s the happiest about. The critics can say what they want, and sure, she enjoys what other celebrities are saying about it, and all the non-fans that are grudgingly admitting they like it, but Sansa cares about what the fans think more than anyone. The fans, her family, and her friends – they’re the ones that matter.

Even though they’ve all heard it before, Catelyn plays the entire album and they have a mini dance to it – her entire family, and Jeyne, who’s been by her side since she was fifteen and might as well be family. Every new good review and excited tweet and happy post from a fan makes Sansa smile more and more, until her mouth hurts.

Margaery sends her numerous congratulatory texts, and when she’s feeling brave enough, sitting on the couch with Jeyne and her family, she shoots her one asking her favourite from the album.

Maybe it’s deliberate, or maybe it’s not, but Margaery doesn’t take long to respond with _Track 12._ It makes Sansa’s heart skip a beat.

She pardons herself from the mini party to make a call to the brunette, and right before she hits call, she thinks of one of the people she sent a free copy of the album too. A copy with hearts surrounding tracks 6, 7, 10, the special deluxe track, and, most importantly, track 13. A copy with a note attached reading _I’m sorry we didn’t work out._

She considers ringing up Myrcella and asking what she thought, but before she can put too much thought into it, Margaery calls herself, telling Sansa how wonderful she is and gushing about the album.

And Sansa can’t help but forget everything and everyone else.

* * *

“I’m doing the show again.”

Margaery looks up at Sansa, staring at her for several seconds before jumping to her feet with a grin. She throws herself at the redhead, hugging her tightly before spinning them both around the room.

“It gets better,” Sansa says, biting back a laugh as she looks at her best friend slash crush.

“How?”

“They want us to walk down the catwalk. Together. Hand in hand. Whilst I sing one of my newest songs.”

Sansa doesn’t think she’s even seen Margaery smile brighter than she does in that moment, and she can’t help but think, that if this is how she’s reacting now, how are both of them going act on the night?

* * *

Sansa’s a vision of pink silk on the night, preparing to kick it off with one of the most well received songs on the album. She thinks back to a year ago, when everyone was calling her a crazy ex-girlfriend, and how she turned it on them. How she took the rumours and the lies and made it one of the songs she’s most proud of.

“Are you scared?” Margaery asks her, right before she’s about to go on. Margaery looks beautiful, as she always does, wearing nothing but over the top lingerie and high heels.

“No,” Sansa replies, and she means it “I was last year but – I don’t know. This year has just been really good to me. I’m okay.”

Margaery smiles, reaching for Sansa’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “That’s good to hear. You deserve to feel like this.”

Sansa wants to tell her “part of it is because of you,” but she doesn’t. She has a song to sing and Margaery has a runway to walk down.

The first performance is a hit. The crowd loves the song, and Sansa loves performing it. She’s feels at peace, standing on this runway, singing a song from her new album that everyone’s raving about, and watching her best friend walk past her halfway through. She’s not who she was a year ago, and she’s endlessly grateful for that.

Sansa’s second performance is her favourite, nonetheless. Part of it is the song, part of it is the black lace and matching heels she gets to wear (Margaery lived up to her promise and finally helped her to perfect The Walk), part of it is all the other girls she’s friends with walking past. But she knows that the main reason she loves it so much is because she got to walk on stage with Margaery, hand in hand. There was nobody there to criticize her, to judge her, to make sharp comments. Just her and her best friend, walking down a catwalk, hand in hand.

When Margaery leaves her to walk back up and let the other models show their stuff, Sansa feels her mood deflate a little, but not much. Margaery’s given her enough strength not only tonight, but over the past year, to last her a lifetime.

The rest of the performance feels liberating, and even though there are whispers in the world about the boy she wrote this song for, she can only think of a certain girl when she sings.

They hug on stage at the end, surrounded by everyone else, and Margaery tugs her along when they go backstage. They’ll have to mingle with everyone else and take photos of course, but Margaery seems determined for them to have a moment of privacy before it all happens.

Sansa finds herself in her dressing room, her gushing best friend opposite her, beaming brightly before she wraps her in a hug.

“That was even better than last year,” she announces “For both of us. God, you sounded great, and we both looked great. I can’t _wait_ til it’s televised!”

Margaery is still bouncing up and down when Sansa leans in and kisses her. If her friend is surprised she doesn’t show it, immediately tugging Sansa closer and running her teeth over her bottom lip. Margaery’s an even better kisser than she imagined, and she tastes like strawberries and smells of roses. It’s so perfect that she even forgets they’re kissing for the first time in a dressing room, both wearing basically lingerie whilst a bunch of people discussed a fashion show they were just in a few feet away.

When the pull away, Margaery presses her forehead against Sansa’s, and they stay there for several seconds, before Sansa whispers, “I love you.”

Margaery leans back, and tilts her head to one side “Track 12 was for me, wasn’t it?”

Sansa nods, her breath caught in her throat. She thinks about how much she needs for it to be true, for Margaery to love her endlessly no matter what anyone says. How much she needs this, and needs to feel this way for the rest of her life.

The other girl tucked a stray hair behind Sansa’s ear, smiling right back “I love you too. God, can you believe it’s only been a year since we met?”

Sansa smiles and fights back tears, because she knows they’ll have to go out and see everyone else in about a minute, otherwise they’ll get suspicious. But she can’t help but think that Margaery loves her back, and she’s never been happier than she is right now, when a year ago she was going through one of the worst periods of her life.

“Of course,” she says finally, giving a small nod “It’s been the best year of my life, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> So after a long hiatus I am back with a new fic. Inspired by a certain singer and model, because I thought they fit Sansa and Margaery so well. Plus, some Sansa/Myrcella as well, because they're also quite wonderful. No harm was intended by this fic to any real people.  
> I'd like to dedicate this fic to two people:  
> Emily - for reading over this and giving my encouragement throughout. For talking to me long into the night about a certain pop star and letting me get emotional over Sansa/girls to her. For being one of the loveliest friends anyone could ask for. I love you.  
> Lucy - because of course. Thank you for talking to me about Sansa/Margaery whenever, and being there for me whenever I need you. I'm glad you're back. I missed you, and love you.  
> Title is from 'I Know Places' by Taylor Swift.  
> xx ladystark


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